End of the World
by MysteryMisti2
Summary: Rachel has fancied Quinn since forever. One night the secret comes spilling out. This is the story of how Rachel lost her popularity. Title references to the popular but ridiculous phrase 'it's not the end of the world'. FEMMESLASH. M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**End of the World**

**A/N. **I haven't written anything that isn't a one-shot in a while. Haven't really had the time. But for the next few weeks at least, I should be a lot less busy (until Glee comes back for the second half of Season 1, in any case.)

**Warnings. **Cliffhangers. Femmeslash. Rated M for a reason. So pretty much the same as everything else I've ever written.

**Pairings. **Rachel/Quinn and... that's about it. Rachel's POV.

**Timing. **Post-episode thirteen, alternate universe (Quinn's not pregnant and she's still the most popular kid in school.)

Rachel has fancied Quinn since forever. One night the secret comes spilling out. Title references to the popular but ridiculous phrase 'it's not the end of the world'.

* * *

_August 2008_

The tall building loomed up in front of Rachel, looking bit, bleak and imposing. Her huge, superstar smile turned itself down at the corners and her head involuntarily fell down so that she was staring at the tarmac courtyard that she was currently walking across. She scolded herself inwardly. Nothing or nobody made Rachel Berry feel inferior. One day, she was going to be famous, and these people would be seeing her picture in the paper and saying to themselves, "You know, I went to high school with her. If I'd just been a bit nicer to her, I could be famous right now..."

These were the thoughts that kept Rachel going as she lost herself in the crowd of hundreds of other nameless, faceless freshmen all with scared expressions on their faces, all knowing that the place they were in now was a million miles further than they'd thought from the safe haven of middle school that they'd known for so long. But none of that was going to get to Rachel. Actresses, such as herself, had to adapt easily to new surroundings. She could be the most talented performer in the world but she'd never get anywhere if she didn't have a strong will and a stronger personality, and Rachel was a firm believer in the saying that if you weren't famous, you hadn't achieved anything. So there was no way she was going to mess this up. Yes, she had messed up the first say of kindergarten by peeing herself during circle time, and as she was in a new skirt, it had gone all over the leg of the disgusted boy next to her, but that was years ago, in another universe. And, well, there was the time on the first day of sixth grade when she'd dropped her pasta sauce all over her new shirt and didn't have a clean one to change into... but even that was forever ago. She'd matured so much since then, she hardly had to worry. All she had to do was not talk to anyone for a few days, until everything had gotten settled. Then she could start making a name for herself. Everything would be okay.

Except that.

Because everything around Rachel had suddenly gone blurry. Her locker was indistinguishable from every other locker and the people roaming the halls had melted into one big solid mass... and at the center of it, directly ahead of her, was one person who had suddenly come into sharp focus. The person had soft, blonde hair that swung around her as she walked, perfect, porcelain doll skin, and deep, melting eyes. Her tight clothes showed off every curve of her body, leaving little to the imagination but still somehow managing to look modest. But the thing Rachel noticed the most was the soft, shiny red lips, which had more natural colour in than any she'd ever seen before.

Rachel blinked, and the vision was gone.

It must have been a trick of the light.

_September 19, 2008_

Rachel hadn't exactly been popular in middle school, but she'd had her friends - girls who wanted to become stars just as much as she did. Of course, none of them were as talented as her or quite as driven, but they knew her pain nonetheless. Now that she'd been in high school for a few weeks, things were different.

"Hey, Rachel!" Kelsey yelled across the hall. She'd been one of Rachel's best friends up until now.

"What, Kelsey?" Rachel asked, unable to stop the slight note of misery from entering her voice.

"Just wondering if you wanted to hang out this weekend," Kelsey replied, sounding slightly offended.

_Say yes, _Rachel told herself, _say yes._

"Um, no, I've, er, got something on."

What was happening to her? First she was using the words 'um' and 'er', words she hadn't used since she was five years old, and second, she was refusing invitations to hang out with her own friends without a good reason? She knew that it wouldn't be too long before they stopped bothering altogether, but she couldn't bring herself to make the words come out of her lips. Idle chatter, whispering during classes, that used to be a part of her life, but now it was gone. What was the point? What was the point to anything any more?

The answer to that was waiting for her the next day after school.

* * *

Okay, so that wasn't my best cliffhanger. Also, it was pretty short, but I'm quite uninspired tonight. Maybe I'll make this lots of short chapters, about 1000 words long? Or do you prefer longer chapters? Let me know. Rate and review if you feel like it.

Misti xx


	2. Chapter 2

**End of the World**

Chapter Two

So tomorrow is Script Frenzy, so I'll mostly be concentrating on that. If you don't know what that is, I'm going to shamelessly plug it now - it's an awesome month-long scriptwriting contest, and if you start a few days late, who cares? It's fun. You can google it. But I'll still try and update this about once a week.

* * *

_September 20, 2008_

_You have every right to be here, _Rachel told herself as she sat on the high stone bleachers after school, _nobody's going to talk to you. Nobody's going to think it's weird._ But she couldn't convince herself. She couldn't even explain why she was here - and if it didn't make sense to her, then it certainly wouldn't make sense if one of her friends came by and asked what this 'something' she was supposedly doing tonight had to do with watching after-school cheerleader practice. All she knew was that every time she caught a glimpse of the newly elected head cheerleader, her stomach twisted up in knots and she found it hard to breathe. The blonde's eyes caught the light in a way that caused Rachel physical pain. Watching was torture, although she'd never had any desire to be a cheerleader, so why was she so upset that she hadn't been one of the new freshmen picked to join the squad?

When Rachel's brain became as frazzled as it was right now, there was only one way out - singing. To Rachel, singing came as naturally as breathing. She'd always enjoyed it, although, if she cast her mind back to a time when nothing mattered, she could remember when she had no idea she was talented. She couldn't imagine feeling that way now. She needed the reassurance that she was good at something, something other than schoolwork, something other people actually cared about. That's why she made her resolution that night - to record a MySpace video of herself singing every night, no matter what time she got home. It was time to forget about the beautiful cheerleader who she didn't even know the name of, and concentrate on the real goal. From now on, the blonde girl would just be a blip in her otherwise impeccable history.

_October 20, 2008_

As October drew to a close, Rachel noticed a definite change in some of her classmates. High school was no longer amazingly cool, something to be proud of belonging to, but something that had to be endured for another three and a half years, that stretched out like a gaping hole in front of them. There was no longer the desperate struggle to become popular - the hierarchy had been established, the football team chosen, and the freshmen no longer stuck out like sore thumbs, now that they'd learnt which clothes were acceptable and which would get you a ticket to the Dumpster. More importantly, Rachel had successfully kept up with her resolution to post a video every day, she had been out with her friends twice, and she knew the name of the head cheerleader. She'd put her obsession with the other girl down to a serious case of jealousy upon arriving at school, as she seemed to have everything Rachel wanted. Now that Rachel was settled in, things were different. When the auditions for the school production came around in January, it would finally be Rachel's big break. She was training harder than ever, and she knew that landing the lead would make her the most popular girl not only in her group of friends, but in the whole grade. Until then, all she had to do was keep her head down, do some homework, and wait.

_January 11, 2009_

_Audition Day_

Rachel didn't suffer from stage fright. She was too confident about the fact that she was going to blow all the competition out of the water. Her only problem in the days leading up to the audition had been choosing the song that best showed off her voice. There was nothing worse than having someone else take a part from you because you'd picked a song that didn't suit you. Eventually, she decided on 'Where is Love' from one of her all-time favourite musicals, 'Oliver!'. She smiled, satisfied with her choice, as she listened to other kids belt out pop hits from the past twenty years. It was so unprofessional to sing a pop song at an audition. It was practically telling the judges that all you listened to was mindless crap! Nobody was going to want to work with someone like that.

Rachel had auditioned for many shows. She particularly enjoyed performing last, as many people who had already completed their auditions stayed to watch the last few so that they could assess the competition. Rachel couldn't blame them - if she'd had as little talent as they did, she'd certainly want to do the same thing. As it was, she had nothing to worry about. All there was left to do was to step out into the spotlight, and she'd be on the way to stardom.

_Where is love?_

_Does it fall from skies above?_

_Is it underneath the willow tree_

_That I've been dreaming of?_

_Where is she?  
_

_Who I close my eyes to see?_

_Will I ever know the sweet hello_

_That's meant for only---_

In her whole life, Rachel had never forgotten the words to a song. But as she was going to learn more and moe over the next few months, there was a first time for everything.

* * *

I know, I know. There's been two chapters and STILL no sex. I'm not surprised you want a refund. Just be patient. Good things come to those who wait. Review if you like.

Misti xx


	3. Chapter 3

**End of the World**

Chapter Three

I've so been neglecting this story. I don't really have any idea what's going to happen this chapter, just that there will be good sex. In fact, I'm only writing this because I'm so sick of the script I'm writing - no idea where that's going, either. I need to develop characters. That's why I like fanfiction - characters come ready-developed. Just read, okay?

* * *

_January 11, 2009 - Continued._

Rachel cast around wildly for the words to the song. She searched her memory banks, but found no matches. Yet she'd had this song word perfect since she was six. What had happened to it?

She knew exactly what had happened to it. Quinn Fabray, head cheerleader, vision of perfection, was sitting in the audience, smiling. But Rachel had no idea why this made any difference to... well, anything, really. I mean, most freshmen girls did feel a bit intimidated by the sophisticated blonde, but Rachel was not one of them. Yet she was struck dumb right there, listening to the piano play the next couple of lines of the song, and then stop.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel said, "I've never messed up like that in my life before. I never forget the words to songs. I have no idea what happened."

"All the same, Rachel, we have to know we can rely on our performers. If you're going to forget the words to a simple song, we can't possible trust you with many lines."

Rachel felt like she was close to tears. But she blinked them back because Rachel Berry never cried over a performance, not ever. "Please, could I have one more chance? Maybe do another audition tomorrow, with a different song?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Berry. Our decision is final. You will have a small part, just one scene to learn, and no songs - although you may sing in the chorus, if you would like."

She passed Rachel a copy of her piece. It really was very short indeed - she only had eight lines, and the scene was with one other person, the main character who she had so wanted to be. She would never be able to get onstage with the character she dreamed of being, pretending she wasn't jealous.

"Who is to play the female lead, then?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't quaver too much.

"Quinn Fabray," replied the drama coach, and, ignoring the look of shock on Rachel's face, added, "I suggest the two of you get together to practice sometime."

_January 11, 2009. Later_

Rachel was a professional. She wanted to have her part, however small it was, completely learnt by the time the first rehearsal rolled around, in one week's time. So, that evening, she laid herself out across her pale pink carpet with the copy of the lines and started trying to memorise them. But she found she could not concentrate on what they said. Instead, her mind kept drifting back to somebody else. A certain blonde.... with perfect, full, red lips...

"Stop thinking about her lips," Rachel told herself defiantly, "You're just jealous because she got the lead in the play, and you didn't."

The drama coach had said that Mike Chang, a boy from the football team, was to play the male lead. Rachel knew the play well, and the two of them had a kissing scene near the end. Rachel imagined the two kissing each other, and found that the thought made her inexplicably sad.

"Perhaps I'm in love with Mike Chang," Rachel thought to herself, "but that can't be right. I dont even know what he looks like."

Eventually, Rachel decided to give up on the play for a while and go take a shower. She undressed and just as she was climbing inside, another image occurred to her, from out of nowhere - another girl, getting into her own shower. Namely, Quinn Fabray.

Rachel pushed the thought out of her head at once, even though a spot between her thighs had started to ache ceaselessly. It was invasion of privacy - if she'd found out that Quinn Fabray was conjuring mental images of her in the shower, she'd feel disgusted, wouldn't she? But no... the thought only made the ache get worse. It was almost unbearable. She thought she knew how to stop it - it wasn't something she'd ever tried, of course, for it was a disgusting thought - but she knew that she couldn't settle to anything in this state. It was worth a try - a once-off, of course.

All thoughts of the shower forgotten, Rachel returned to her room, locked the door and laid herself down on the pale pink carpet once more. Heart beating furiously, she spread her legs, put her finger next to her clit, and stroked once gently upwards.

She knew at once that she had done the right thing, for the ache seemed to multiply by ten. Rachel wanted to get rid of it so that she could concentrate on something else, but all the same, she'd promised herself she'd never do this...

She got up and walked over to her closet to fetch some pyjamas.

But no, she had to test it... to see if it worked again, that was all. So she laid back down in her original position, placed her finger by her clit once more, and stroked upwards again.

It was though a fire had gone off in her mind. She couldn't properly concentrate on what she wanted anymore, any promises she had made to herself in the past were gone. She had no idea how much more of this she could take - she only knew that she wanted to push herself to the limit, right now. So she stroked again, downwards this time, and let out a little moan. Tired of taking it slowly, she forgot everything else as she continued her stroking, faster and faster as her breathing became quicker. There was one more thing... why not? She'd come this far, there was nothing she could do to change what she'd done now. So she poked one finger inside of her pussy, feeling around for its wetness. In went a second finger, and - oh, God - a third. Thoughts she could not control fled through her mind - it was no longer her making herself feel this way. It was Quinn Fabray. In Rachel's mind, the blonde was sitting on top of her, completely naked, as her mouth connected with Rachel's and her fingers swished around. Rachel tried not to cry out, tried to clench her legs and stop... whatever was about to happen, for she did not want to disturb her dads. But far from stopping it, clenching her thighs only tipped her closer to the edge.

It was as though Rachel was standing on the edge of a very tall cliff that she'd been climbing, trying to hold on by the tips of her toes, but she knew it was no good, she must fall sometime.

Rachel's fingers were tiring, though this did not stop her - she pumped her pussy and ran her fingers over her clit again and again, until she was sure that any second she would explode, and she didn't want it to happen, but it must, and she grabbed hold of her own clit, trying to wrench it off as she was completely out of control, and with one last, heartstopping rub - she fell with a shriek, and stopped twitching, her fingers and legs and the carpet completely soaked.

For a moment she lay still.

Then panic overtook her.

* * *

This chapter does not end with a plea for reviews, because it's so annoying when people do that.

Oh, alright, fine. **REVIEW OR DIE.**

Misti xx


	4. Chapter 4

**End of the World**

Chapter 4

This chapter will be one of those in-betweeny sort of chapters. You know, the ones where nothing happens, but they're necessary to move the story along. However, I promise a huge argument in the next chapter, so just keep reading. Also, I'm working on a shiny new story which might be published today also, so keep your eyes open.

Also, I know the first chapter said it was post-episide 13... you've probably noticed that it's not, but my fics have a habit of going in a completely different direction to the one I'd originally planned.

I still don't own Glee. Which sucks, because I was hoping it might have miraculously passed into my possession overnight.

* * *

_January 18, 2009  
First Rehearsal_

"Miss Berry?"

Rachel continued to gaze longingly into space.

"Miss Berry!"

Several people turned to stare at Rachel, who was completely oblivious.

"MISS BERRY!"

Rachel jerked out of her reverie.

"Yes?"

The play director turned to her with contempt.

"Miss Berry, I have been calling you for the last five minutes! We've reached your scene. Please can you pay attention! I can see now how right I was to keep the lead part from you."

Colour rose in Rachel's cheeks, and she didn't trust herself to speak as she flipped hurriedly through the pages of her script to the start of the second act, and began to read. She'd found herself doing this a lot since she'd declared herself "officially" in love with Quinn Fabray the previous week, but usually it was in the middle of a boring class, and not in her favorite extracurricular, play rehearsal. It wasn't like she wanted to keep dozing off and missing everything the teachers said. It wasn't like she enjoyed the fact that her hormones went into overdrive every time she saw the cheerleader walking through the halls wearing that tight, skimpy uniform. But she didn't have any idea how to stop it, either. One thing was for certain, she was never doing what she'd done last week again. She'd felt terrible about it ever since.

Rachel finished her scene, and there were a few halfhearted claps.

"Unsatisfactory, Miss Berry! Please work on that scene before next week, or I will give your part to someone else! I am starting to think that I made a mistake casting freshmen in the play!"

_I won't cry, _thought Rachel, trying to keep her face from crumpling up, _all this is just so that I'll be a better actress. The best one in the play. There are no small parts, only small actors... remember?_

But she couldn't make herself believe it.

_January 19, 2009_

"Rachel! Hi!"

Rachel turned to her friend Jane, trying to at least feel glad that she had heard her. But she wasn't sure she was able to feel glad about anything anymore.

"What?" Rachel replied dejectedly.

Jane, who never felt sad about anything, looked surprised at the tone in which she was being spoken to - by one of her best friends, no less.

"I was just... never mind."

"OK." Rachel shrugged and went on her way.

"No, Rachel, wait!" Jane called after her. She could never bear to part with someone on bad terms. "I was just going to tell you that we've got a shopping trip planned for Saturday, and to ask you if you were... if you were free."

Rachel pasted a fake smile on her face.

"Oh, I'd love to come," she told her, in as sweet a voice as she could manage, "but I have to go to this family event with my aunt. Next time, though!"

"Oh..." replied Jane, disappointed. "Well, how about we hang out this lunchtime?"

"Can't. The Black Student Union meets today."

Rachel fled before Jane could tell her that the Black Student Union only met once every two weeks, and that this week was not one of them.

_January 25, 2009  
Second Rehearsal_

"Right... so we're all here. I hope you were all paying attention to what I said last week, and have been practicing your parts hard. We're going to do another read-through this week, with the tips I gave you last week, and then next week we'll start on stage with Act 1. We're going to start by reading through Act 2... Mike Chang, you're in this first scene... so are you, Molly... and you, Derek..."

Rachel pushed open the door and ran, sweaty, panting and out of breath, to a seat at the back.

"Miss Berry! Why are you late to rehearsal?"

Rachel cast around wildly for some excuse that didn't involve thinking about the taste of Quinn Fabray's lips.

"Let out of class late... and had to see my math teacher..."

"Sit down. You should know, Miss Berry, that this theatre has a policy - three strikes, and you're out. That is your second strike. One more, and you're not in the play - no exceptions. We're starting with Act 2. Take it away, Mike."

_Three hours later_

"Well done, kids. That was certainly an improvement on last week. You're all dismissed."

Rachel sighed with relief, stuffed her script into her purse, shouldered it, and jogged towards the door.

"Wait! Miss Berry! Stay behind, I want a word."

Fearing the worst, Rachel changed path, cutting through groups of chattering students, towards where the play director was standing near Quinn Fabray and Mike Chang. Quinn's perfect face was alight with laughter. Rachel forced herself back to reality and tore her eyes away from the sight.

"Rachel Berry. I must say, I expected more of you. The report from your middle school... told me that you had taken the lead in the school play for the past two years. That you were a professional, who had a lot of potential. But after what happened today... fluffing up all your lines, even with the script in front of you, coming in at the wrong times, cutting in on other people... I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Rachel's whole world tilted on its side for a moment. She gasped for air, unable to breathe. Kicked out? She had never, in her whole life, been kicked out of anything before. And she certainly didn't want to start now... She had to say something, anything, to make him change his mind.

"Please!" she gasped, "give me one more chance. I've had things going on... problems at home... but I swear, if you give me one more chance, I'll be so much better."

For a moment, the director looked as though he was considering her offer, but then he shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry, Miss Berry. If I make an exception for you, I'll have to make an exception for the next person."

Rachel stared at him with pleading eyes, unable to form words.

"Please, if you'll let me interrupt?" came a soft, breathy, musical voice from Rachel's left. Quinn Fabray had heard everything. Quinn Fabray had heard her humiliation... and she would probably laugh with all her friends tomorrow about how Rachel Berry had been unceremoniously booted from the play.

"Miss Fabray?"

"Give her another chance."

"I'm sorry?"

"Give her another chance. Seriously. This is the second rehearsal, and as this is her first play here, she's probably feeling a bit under pressure. Just give it a few weeks. It's only a small part to learn, so if she does continue to mess it up, someone else won't have too much trouble with it."

The director wanted to kick Rachel out anyway. In fact, at that moment, he wanted to kick both of them out, for daring to question his authority. But even a staff member could not disobey the orders of the head cheerleader.

"Very well, then," he said grudgingly, "but, Miss Berry, this time, you are on your absolute last warning. Clear?"

"Yes," Rachel replied, head bowed, hardly daring to believe it. As soon as he was out of sight, Rachel rounded on Quinn.

"Why did you do that for me?" she asked, accusingly.

"Well, if you're gonna talk to me like that, I won't do it again."

Rachel shook her head as though trying to extract water from her ears.

"I'm sorry. I just... meant... well, you're a cheerleader! And I'm just a freshman!"

"Believe it or not, the fact that I'm a cheerleader doesn't mean I'm incapable of being nice. I just felt bad for you, because you said you had problems at home. And I can totally relate to that."

Rachel gulped. The problems at home had just been an excuse to try and stay in the play.

"Tell you what. Why don't you come over to my house? Tomorrow? We can work on your scene, and you'll be able to get away from your family."

Rachel looked shocked, her conflicting emotions battling each other in her mind.

If she accepted Quinn's offer and went over to her house, Quinn would undoubtedly ask her about her problems.

But then again... she was in love with Quinn, which distorted her rationality. And she could always make something up.

And although Rachel didn't want to be so selfish as to think this, she couldn't help it: how often did the head cheerleader invite a freshman over to her house? Her social status would improve dramatically.

There was nothing for it.

"Sure. What time?"

* * *

So, last time I blackmailed you for reviews. That worked pretty well. This time, I'm bribing you: everyone who reviews this story gets a huge stack of cookies, and their name in the next chapter telling everyone how awesome they are. ^^

Also, the reviews I've got so far are great, but some constructive criticism is always welcome, too. (If there's a bit that sucks, tell me. I can take it. Just no flames, because only losers with nothing better to do do that.)

Misti xx


	5. Chapter 5

**End of the World**

Chapter 5

So, I get that it's been a while since the last chapter was published, and I'm really, really sorry about that, but things have been crazy. I moved house, and so I had to pack up all my things, and then, at the other end, I had to unpack all my things. Unpacking my shoes took up three and a half hours. No joke. And on top of that I've had a tonne of work to do and I'm also planning a party and trying to buy even more shoes...

...but this chapter will totally be worth it.

* * *

_January 26, 2009_

Rachel was almost tearing her hair out in frustration. She had tried on every outfit she possessed in the last half an hour, and nothing. She was just beginning to realise how many of her garments had argyle on them. She wished she were a cheerleader. It was easy for them. They could just wear their uniforms, every day. They didn't understand what it was like for normal people, people like Rachel, who spent every morning standing in front of the wardrobe trying to find something socially acceptable.

Most weeks, Rachel found a way around this. Every Sunday night after dance lessons, she retired to her bedroom and set out an outfit for every day of the next week, and hung them up in order. According to her wardrobe, today's outfit was a maroon argyle skirt and a black sweater with a dog on it. Although it was one of her favorite outfits, it didn't seem quite right for going over to the head cheerleader's house.

_7pm_

It wasn't like Rachel was trying to impress Quinn, or anything. It wasn't like she'd spent the whole day hoping that Quinn might have invited her over, under the pretence of helping her with the scene, to confess her feelings for Rachel. It wasn't like Rachel had borrowed tight, sexy clothes from her friends so that Quinn would be looking at her. She just liked looking nice, that was all, she told herself as she rang the doorbell of the large whitewashed house on the outskirts of Lima.

The door opened, but it was not Quinn standing on the other side. It was an older woman, blonde like Quinn, and with the same heart-shaped face - her mother. She would have been very pretty, but the expression on her face was as though she were looking at horse manure.

"We're not interested, thank you," she said in a clipped tone, "and would you kindly not call at our house again,"

Rachel was confused. "Wait!" she called as the woman made to slam the door in her face, "I'm here to see Quinn."

"Quinn?" she asked in disbelief, "You're not a friend of hers, are you?"

Had the circumstances been any different, Rachel might have lied and said yes, but the expression on her mother's face said quite clearly that she did not want her daughter mixing with anyone like Rachel. And the last thing Rachel wanted was to get Quinn into trouble, so she told the truth.

"We're not friends, we're just in the play together. We're going over lines."

Quinn's mother evidently did not trust herself to reply. She turned away from the door and called up the stairs.

"Quinn! There's someone here to see you!"

As Quinn's feet pattered down the stairs, she said in a quieter voice which Rachel, with her excellent hearing, still managed to catch, "she looks a bit like a prostitute."

But Rachel had no time to dwell on the hurtfulness of these words, because Quinn had just come into sight. It was the first time Rachel had seen her out of her uniform. Her long, silky hair was loose over a soft, modest black jersey dress that fell to just above her knees. Her breasts, usually squashed by her cheerleading uniform, were perfectly round and even below the high neckline. She had bare feet and no make-up, and she wore an expression identical to her mother's.

"Upstairs," she barked, jerking her head in the direction of the first floor landing. Rachel climbed the stairs in silence, and followed Quinn into her bedroom.

"What the hell are you wearing?" screeched the blonde. Rachel's cheeks flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure - Quinn was even more gorgeous when she was angry.

"I just... wanted to look nice," she murmured ashamedly.

"For what?" Quinn had perfected her condescending voice, "It's not like I have an older brother or there are guys here, or anything. Just... change into something from my wardrobe." She gestured to a pair of double doors on the other side of the room. Hiding her face, Rachel scurried over to them and pulled them open.

Five minutes later, Rachel emerged from the walk-in wardrobe wearing a pair of plain jeans and a blue plaid shirt.

"See," remarked Quinn, "you look so much prettier now. You should think about investing in similar items for your own wardrobe."

But Rachel didn't even hear the second sentence. The moment Quinn had called her pretty, her spirits rose until she was sure she could fly out of the window if she'd wanted.

"Shall we... run the scene now?" Rachel asked nervously.

"Sure. Unless there's anything you wanted to talk to me about?"

Rachel's heart started to beat faster. Did the blonde know something?

"About your family, that is. You said you had problems."

Rachel's heart sank. "No, things... haven't been so bad today, actually. Let's run the scene."

Quinn smiled and nodded, and sat down on the bed. After a moment in which she realised that Rachel had no intention of following suit, she took her arm and yanked her down.

The ache that had been settling between Rachel's legs all day seemed to multiply by ten at the connection of their skin, until she was quite sure that unless she stopped looking at Quinn's body, she would come any moment.

Quinn obviously hadn't noticed Rachel's discomfort. "Do you have your script with you?" she asked, "or do you need to share mine?"

Rachel didn't dare open her mouth, but she had to say something.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted in the space of a second.

"Right across the hall," replied Quinn lazily, laying back on the bed as Rachel dashed from the room and through the opposite door, trying to hold it in for a few moments longer. She forced the jeans she was wearing down - they were a little tight - followed by her soaking panties, and moaned with delight as her fingers found her sensitive spot and circled it as quickly as they could. She sank down to the floor, unable to see or think properly about anything. She imagined Quinn doing the same thing next to her and the image of her contorted face made Rachel's body freeze up and go rigid as she cried out... but something was wrong. Her cries were mixed with another voice - a voice that was coming from behind her.

"Rachel, what the hell?"

* * *

-evil smile-

Misti xx


End file.
